


Rebel Yell

by nexokid



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, F/M, Harley is a little bit of a stalker, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Murder, Non-Abusive Relationship, Overdosing, Romance, as normal as these two can be at least, basically they are normal people, but just in the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:31:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7752319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nexokid/pseuds/nexokid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay is a comedian who ends up in a hospital after a rather unfortunate night. Harleen Quinzel is a psychologist who tags along after that. Who would have known they might match? Jay absolutely could not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleepovers and Mind Games

**Author's Note:**

> I liked how Suicide Squad portrayed their relationship, so I decided to write this one.  
> I mostly listened to Rebel Yell by Billy Idol while writing this, hence the name.

Jay had just finished his gig in this rather shady bar which, by the looks of it, had not heard about hiring cleaning help since the fifties.  
The occasion was nothing out of the ordinary though as no other place than a shady and unclean one would hire him.  
The place smelled like wet cigarettes and cheap beer, which was unsurprisingly spilled on the table he was sitting by.

The comedian took another sip from his curious colored drink. God only knows how many he had took before and after his performance. The drink came with a green umbrella, it was the same shade as his hair. When the bar played that Piña Colada song for the fifteenth time tonight, Jay considered stabbing his ears with the papery object.

"Do we have to?" he heard a low female voice ask someone near him.  
"Oh come on, Kitty, he was great and I wanna tell him that!" came an answer from another woman whose voice was much more high pitched than this "Kitty's".  
The conversation continued and their voices became louder as he could hear them approach the clown, a title he had already owned but which was originally given to him by other people with ill will.

"Hi, I'm Harley and this is Selina! You were real great up there," he heard the woman with that high pitched voice tell him enthusiastically.  
Jay turned around on his seat to see who was complimenting him.  
There were two women. A short blonde with a shy smile and a slightly taller woman with short black hair and cat like eyes.

"You're much more haunting up close," the woman, who Jay assumed was Selina, stated bluntly and cocked her eyebrows. The statement was most likely made about the man's clown like makeup.  
"Kitty!" the blonde, named Harley apparently, scolded.  
"Why thank you, but I could say the same about you, Kitty. That fake tan is just magnificent, gives you that nice sexy raisin look," Jay gave an answer to Selina's statement with a smile. The blonde giggled while the cat looking woman narrowed her eyes.

The women joined him on his table. Well, Harley did. She had to drag the other one with force while looking at Jay as if she was a teacher who had just accidentally revealed to a student Santa Claus wasn't real.  
They talked for a while and the comedian kept buying more funny colored drinks. They began to make him feel dizzy, but that might have just been that pill he took after he had finished the gig. Or multiple pills. He couldn't remember how many he had taken. Alcohol always made his brain more fuzzy than it already was.

He could hear the blonde one babbling about something he currently did not care about. Occasionally he could also hear Selina say something, perhaps correcting the story Harley was telling him? At the moment, Jay only wanted to lean back with his chair, until he hopefully would sink through the floor to some place nicer than this rat hole of a bar in Gotham City. Like Chernobyl.

"Are you feeling okay?" he heard the black haired woman ask with a weirded out tone. Then Jay felt himself finally hit the floor. The pain on the back of his head was numb compared to the need of closing his eyes and maybe...  
No, this was not how it was supposed to end! He was not going to die at some dirty bar straight out of Sons of Anarchy while still holding a green umbrella in his fist!

"Kitty, go call an ambulance!" he heard the blonde cry. Jay could feel her hands touching his chest shakily.  
"Come on, puddin', stay with me okay?"  
Those were the last words Jay could hear before closing his eyes, the loud music of the bar faintly echoing. He decided to shoot whoever was in charge of music here.  
Then there was nothing.

 

Next time Jay opened his eyes he felt like someone had poured acid on them. The room around him was unfamiliar in a sense that he had never been there. It only took a couple of minutes of observation to know he was in a hospital.

He slowly stood up from the bed and every muscle in his body ached. That fact aside, Jay could not stay here any longer. He didn't have any money to pay for this, and he would probably have to sell his hide on the street or rob a bank to afford whatever they had done to him already.

So he slowly walked to the door, but he was stopped by a high pitched yet slightly sleepy voice behind him:  
"Oh, you're awake! Wait here, I'll go get someone!"  
Jay watched in confusion as this blonde woman ran past him to the hallway. She soon came back with a short but stout lady. In other words; she looked like a tea pot.

"Sit your ass back on the bed", came a command from the new lady. Jay hated commands so he did the opposite. Or at least tried, right after he walked past the apparent nurse or a doctor, she grabbed him by his shoulder and dragged the clown on the bed. Jay tried to kick her, but it was in vain since his legs were still too weak to make any damage. And because he was sure the woman had been a pro wrestler in her past life. That didn't stop Jay from planning how he could kill her using only a pillow and a lamp, but he still decided to behave himself from now on.

"That's better. I'm Dr Jefferson. Now, do you remember anything?" the short lady asked and pointed Jay's eyes with a small flashlight.  
"Why don't you enlighten me? But please do it with something else than that," Jay huffed and squinted his eyes a little.

"You overdosed on antidepressants mixed with alcohol. I'm honestly surprised you're still alive, you were asleep for two days," came an answer and a click as the flash light was switched off.  
"That's great, but I really have to go, I might have left a stove on," Jay stated and once again stood up from the bed.  
"Don't worry, your girlfriend paid your medical bills," the woman interrupted, ending his attempted escape.  
How did she know, Jay internally screamed, but sat back on the bed once again.

"I'll go get some equipment for blood tests, be right back," the doctor said before waddling out of the room.  
"I'm glad to see you're okay," Jay heard the blonde say. He had almost forgot she was still standing in the room.  
"Yeah, who are you anyway?" he asked and ran his fingers through his oily green hair.  
"I'm Harleen Quinzel, or Harley for short. We met that night at the bar, remember? I also paid your medical bills in advance," she explained with a smile and took a seat on the only chair in the room. Jay didn't care to know more after being assured he didn't have to pay for this fiasco.

Soon the short and stout woman came back with some other guy and they ran tests on him.  
Jay puked once and it was heart-wrenchingly humiliating.  
After several more hours they told him he was good to go. And he left. With Harley.

 

They went to get some ice cream, as ice cream is always nice after an overdose and if he would puke later, it better taste like sprinkles and whipped cream.  
"Why are you with me again?" Jay asked and rested his chin against his palm with a lazy expression on his face. He really didn't feel comfortable with little to no makeup on.  
"The doctor told me to keep an eye on you for a couple of days in case there's brain damage or somethin'," Harley answered while stuffing her mouth with banana split.  
Jay definitely didn't want his brains, his best quality, to be damaged so he allowed that.

"And why did you tell them you were my girlfriend?" he asked and observed Harley's facial features. There might be something to get out of her appearance that he didn't have to ask about. There really wasn't.  
"I was scared they wouldn't let me be with you if I told them I was just some stranger from the bar," she shrugged. Smart girl.

"Are we playing 21 questions? My turn! Why did you have antidepressants? Whoops, that already makes up two questions," Harley babbled.  
Jay cocked his eyebrows and thought about it for a moment. He could tell her some sob story, he could just leave or he could indulge her. So many options.

"Well, Harley, to be honest with you they were not mine. My turn; what do you do for a living?" he asked, deciding to humor the blonde. He changed his posture from lazy to something more suave.  
"I'm a psychologist, at Arkham Asylum. Fun job, lots of nice people!" Harley chirped an answer. Jay's mind lit up. He knew there was something familiar about her!

He had not met her personally before that overdose incident, but he had read about her on a newspaper few years ago. The article described Harley as a brilliant woman who was the youngest person ever to get an internship to Arkham Asylum. Jay had even been at the same building as her. He was released before she became a full time psychologist there. Too bad. They would've had so much fun. All his other psychologists avoided eye contact and lacked a sense of humor.

"Certainly sounds like it. Being an old MacDonald at a funny farm that is. I believe it's your turn to ask a question," Jay noted with a grin. He could almost see her cheeks forming a slight red color.

They continued their game, until they were out of exactly 21 questions. The sky was forming an orange color, which made the comedian remember the drinks he took that one night. Never again, he swore to himself.

"This has been a pleasure, Harley, but I must go. Must not keep the burning apartment complex waiting," he joked as he stood up from his seat, remembering the joke about that stove from earlier.  
"Wait, I was still told to keep an eye on you. I really can't let you go alone," Harley pointed out and stood up as well.

Jay considered his options. He did want to go home from all this hassle and mess that was today, but on the other he really did not want to risk becoming a vegetable. He sighed dramatically.  
"Your place or mine?"

 

When they arrived to the apartment complex, Jay's neighbors who were smoking cigarettes outside gave them weirded out looks. It's not everyday the green haired man would bring company home, especially lady company. And Harley was no ordinary lady. Her hair was tied to a tight bun and her clothing alone made her look like she could work on Wall Street for all other people knew. Jay gave them a wide smile which made them look away.

His tiny apartment was messy; papers and knives laying around the floor, walls full of writings with different colored spray paint and clothes thrown all over.  
"What a curious home you have," Harley commented while looking around.

"Thank you, do you want tea or something?" Jay asked and took off his purple jacket. Harley nodded.  
"There should be some in the kitchen. Left cabinet," Jay informed and laid back on his bed. The blonde gave him a confused look for a while, but walked to the kitchen and began preparing the tea.  
It's not like Jay would make it for her if he didn't want it too.  
"Mind making some for me?" he requested after a while.

The rest of the evening went slightly awkwardly for a while, but the new found tension went away after Harley put on some romantic comedy from Netflix.

"Who calls their loved one a 'Boo boo'?" Harley chided at the laptop screen and threw her other arm in the air in outrage.  
"Someone who didn't get enough boo boo on their backside when they were being naughty?" Jay suggested with a grin. The blonde was quiet for a second before she bursted into a laughter.

"Would ya mind if I stayed for the night? I've got no idea how to get home without instructions," she confessed, her tone more relaxed after a good laugh mixed with sleepiness.  
The comedian had to think about it for a while. It couldn't actually hurt if she stayed for one night.  
"What ever", he gave an answer but his face turned expressionless.

 

When Jay woke up the next morning, he could swear he almost got a heart attack. There was a woman laying next to him. That Harley girl. He had forgotten her already.  
The clown walked to the kitchen and began to prepare coffee. That strange clown shaped clock he had gotten as a gift, from someone he couldn't recall at the moment because they probably were some lowlife idiot anyway, told him it was 12 pm. How long had they stayed up last night, he wondered.

The movies they had watched turned from romantic comedies to buddy comedies to horror movies. Those were the real fun, Jay had told Harley before putting on Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She had liked it. Grossed out but liked it.

It became apparent that Harley was a heavy sleeper. Jay had the time to drink two cups of coffee, take a shower, put on a new makeup and put on some clothes. He wondered how much noise could she tolerate.

"Five more minutes, puddin'," he heard a mumbled answer when he dropped a mug on purpose to get any kind of reaction from her.  
"Harleen, a leprechaun will steal all your Lucky Charms if you don't wake up," he chuckled as he stood by the bed.  
"I'm awake!" Harley yelped and sat up as if struck by lighting. She took a few deep breaths, looking around her with a confused look while Jay observed her reaction.

"I think the leprechaun stole your ability to comprehend where you are instead," he noted and Harley turned to look up at him with a sleepy giggle.  
Later Harley requested Jay would join her to get some change of clothes from her place. She planned on staying another night apparently, but he didn't mind. Not at the moment at least, she would have to ask him again after a couple of hours.

It wasn't a surprise she needed help getting back at her own house. The neighborhood he lived in was probably one of the shittiest in Gotham City, and Harley on the other hand lived at some suburban nightmare. The kind you would see in dramas about mothers with alcohol problems and where daddy cheats on mommy with his secretary. All the while their poor kid is struggling with their first crush and body image issues because their teeth are too big and that bitch from cheer squad is ruining their chance to popularity.

"I'll be right back," the blonde assured after she parked her car. The place was disgustingly suburban frosted with families and golden retrievers like a cherry on top. Jay almost felt hurt when Harley hadn't invited him over. When she had been gone for ten minutes, he decided he didn't need an invitation.

The door was left unlocked, but that was not surprising. The place probably had the lowest crime rates in Gotham. Well this and where all the rich people live with body guards and rottweilers. So idyllic it was nauseating.

The more Jay walked further inside the house, the more messier it got. No wonder Harley hadn't been bothered by his home; the woman was as bad at keeping order as a gremlin.  
He heard vague clattering from one of the rooms, so he decided to let the blonde know he had gotten bored in the car.

What he saw from the doorway did something to him that happened rarely: it left him speechless. There were pictures and newspaper articles, the oldest ones taken several years ago. Some of the pieces were research papers. And they all had something to do with him.

Jay heard a loud yelp, apparently the blonde kneeling on the floor had acknowledged she was not alone in the bedroom. After the clown had enough of confused observation on Harley's interesting choice of decoration, he turned his gaze down on the blonde on the floor. She had obviously been in the middle of stuffing her bag with clothes judging by the pieces of fabric laying around her.

"I can explain," Harley whimpered, her face red from either embarrassment or panic. Jay didn't answer. This should be interesting.  
"I... I think you're intriguing. That has been my opinion ever since my first day at Arkham," Harley stuttered.  
"And I begged Joan Leland for months to let me interview you but she wouldn't let me and then you were released," she continued, her panic clearly growing more intense when Jay wouldn't give her nothing but a blank stare. Ah yes, the good old Joan Leland. That hag enjoyed tormenting her patients verbally. She stopped doing that to Jay after he had stabbed her leg with a pencil.

"Please say something," she begged. Jay thought about leaving the place. Hell, he even thought about stealing Harley's car. Then he placed his gaze upon the pictures and news articles on the walls. They were something new. It was one thing being recognized for his comedy or for his crimes from years ago; this was more flattering.

"Something," Jay finally answered with a grin. He could hear Harley's breathing calm down.  
"You aren't mad?" she asked and smiled a little.  
"Oh, I am mad, but not in a way you'd think," Jay confessed and offered his hand to Harley. She took it and he helped her up.  
"Now, lets take a walk," Jay proposed.

 

Most people would be embarrassed to walk with him in public. Even more so in suburban neighborhoods like this one. But not Harley, she was clearly enjoying herself.

"I've been following your shows ever since I found out about them. That was... Three years ago I think?" Harley confessed and Jay nodded. After listening to her confessions about him, he wondered why was she not locked in some room with soft walls herself.

An old lady walked towards them with a stroller, and when she noticed Harleen, she stopped in front of them.  
"Afternoon, Miss Quinzel," the woman greeted with caution after noticing Jay.  
"Good day to you, Mrs Smithson," Harley greeted back with a smile. The woman seemed to consider if she should just take her stroller and leave, or hit Jay with her bag and call the police.

"And who might your friend be?" she finally asked carefully.  
"Oh, this is," Harley began, but she was interrupted by Jay.  
"Jack Doe. My my, it seems like infertility treatments do wonders nowadays. Is this your first child since the 40s?" he greeted and asked. Jack Doe really wasn't his name, but that's what read on his papers. He didn't even try to hide his amusement when the woman looked at him with an expression that made her look like a rotting avocado.

"Ahem, yes. You are a very funny man. How do you know each other Harleen?" she scorned and turned to look at Harley. Jay wondered if she was trying to signal her to ask if she needed any help.  
"Well, uhm," Harley stuttered.  
"I'm his boyfriend, so nice to meet you, Mrs Smithson," Jay answered for Harley once again. The blonde squeaked a little. The old gargoyle looked at them, clearly trying to hide her horror. She then bid them farewell, seemingly almost forgetting to take the stroller with her.

"Boyfriend?" Harley asked in surprise when they continued their walk back towards her house.  
"I wanted to see if she could get a heart attack from words only", he chuckled. Harley on the other hand looked a little disappointed. Did she want him to be her boyfriend? That thought was slightly less unsettling than he thought it would be. Maybe Harley has been doing a bad job making sure he doesn't have a brain damage.  
"Lets have some fun tonight. Something that could be called a date," he suggested. The blonde immediately turned that frown upside down.


	2. Chandeliers and Criminal Activities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't wait with adding another chapter. A word of warning; if you're not okay with reading about murder(not a graphic one), you might not want to read this.

They had been seeing each other for a month now. Their first date was... Mediocre to say the least. On their latest date he took her to this night club where most of the people wore face paint that would glow in the dark and who would not notice when the same song had been going on for twenty minutes instead of three. Someone slapped Harley's bottom when they finally got out of there, and Jay stabbed the guy's shoulder with a utility knife. They ran for what seemed like forever to escape possible authorities, but when they finally stopped in front of another night club, they shared their first kiss.

Now she's been calling and texting him every other hour. What kind of nutcase does that? That might have something to do with the fact that the clown had not talked to her since that night. A guy needs his own space, you know?

He finally got his phone from the kitchen counter where it had been for days now. He read the messages his phone announced to him.  
50 calls and 75 new texts. Boring.

"Puddin? I need to talk to you," said the latest. He was about to delete all of them when he got a new call from Harley. He accidentally pressed green. He hummed as he listened her faint voice from the speaker. He could just press red again but where's the fun in that?

"Yes?" he asked and scraped off the wallpaper of his apartment with a knife.  
"My neighbors are being mean," he could almost feel her pouting through the phone. He hummed again, but she stayed quiet.  
"Are they sending burning dog feces bags to your front door or do they let their leaves get on your backyard?" he finally asked, carving a smiley face on the wallpaper now.

"No they... They've been tryin' to get me move outta this place," she wept.  
"Ya know, leavin' mean messages in my mailbox and one even painted two ugly words on my door," she continued. The carving was beginning to get more deep than intended.  
"What words?" he asked curiously.  
"I don't..." she began. He insisted and had to butter her up a little until she finally gave him an answer. Jay stabbed the wall.  
"I'll see you soon."

Harley was waiting for him on the front porch, her knees pressed against her chest. Jay glanced at the door where those mean words were still dripping red paint.  
The clown sat next to her and lit a cigarette.  
"What should I do, puddin'? I hate living in this place. Everyone is so pretentious and I don't think the harassment will end too soon," Harley wondered and Jay offered the cigarette to her.

"We could always shoot them," Jay suggested and observed the houses around them. A good massacre is what this place needs. No one disrespects his woman and gets away with it.  
"They would know it was me," the blonde sighed, her expression mixed with boredom and annoyance. The annoyance wasn't directed towards the comedian however. She was clearly fed up with the idyllic Stepford wives who would never accept her to their little social circle filled with cupcakes and book clubs where the only book discussion revolved around Fifty Shades of Grey.

"Do you know who did this?" he asked after a while. Harley nodded, giving the cigarette back to him.  
"I know what we have to do, pumpkin pie," he hummed with a sly grin. Harley looked at him with a curious smile.

 

Few days later they stood in front of the burning house where Harley used to live. It was the middle of the night and all of her neighbors were staring at the flames like it was the Olympic torch for suburb games. Jay chuckled at the idea of suburban games. It was like Hunger Games but with all these people. And instead of bow and arrows, Katniss would be a wine mom using a rolling pin to kill other wine moms.

Jay had instructed Harley to call the fire department, to her surprise, and it didn't take long for them to hear sirens. The clown was almost disappointed when they finally managed to put out the fire. He could feel Harley shivering against his naked upper body, and it was no wonder. Jay had told her to only wear her pajamas, he himself was only wearing his underwear.

After the fire was put out, they went to Jay's home. This was a part of the plan he had not thought about. She had no home now. She had no other belongings than her phone and her wallet. He didn't really feel like making her stay at some hotel, so he had to invite her to live with him. Not that he didn't mind as it was way easier to pay his rent with two people living there.

"Do you think they'll get her?" she asked as they drank coffee at some all night diner. He had borrowed her his clothes back at his place and they were loose against her skin. She almost looked like a sketch show character, which Jay found amusing.  
"Obviously. There's too much evidence for even Gotham's finest to fuck it up," he answered and took a sip from his coffee.

Ah yes, how did the fire start? For the past few days they had observed the woman who had painted the horrendous words on Harley's front door. They happened to know that all of her family members went to sleep exactly 10 pm and would wake up in 7 am. They were all heavy sleepers, so it was easy to gather evidence against her in the middle of the night. Not to mention place evidence. Empty gas tanks with her finger prints on them, gasoline on her leather gloves and her other slipper slightly burned inside the house.

"I love you, puddin'," he heard Harley confess quietly. Jay nodded as an answer and took a sip from his coffee.

 

It became obvious that Harley could not use Jay's clothes forever. And it also annoyed the clown how the clothes he wanted to wear that day were always on Harley. So she decided to go shopping, and even dragged Jay with her.

"Aren't you sick of looking like a library lady?" he asked while sitting on this fancy sofa inside the store that might as well be named Little Miss Uptight. That may or may not fit well with the description of the shop assistant as well.  
"You don't like my clothes?" she asked while holding an ugly polyester jacket in front of a mirror.  
"It's not that, darling, not at all. It's just... Out with the old and in with the new?" he suggested, which made her place the jacket back with other ugly polyester fabrics.

So they spent several hours picking new clothes for her. She seemed to favor red, black and blue as a theme of her new style.  
"Shoot, I almost forgot! I have to pick up a dress for this charity gala I was invited to," she shrieked when they were almost out of the mall.

"You were invited to... What?" Jay questioned.  
"Yeah, all of the psychologists were invited from work. It's for this children's hospital. I get to bring someone with me, wanna come?" she asked with hopeful eyes. Jay really wasn't too keen on fancy parties. On the other hand, it might be fun. Seeing her coworkers faces when they see their former inmate with one of their people. He smirked devilishly.  
"Of course I will come with you to this fancy carnival of gossiping and harlots who will fight over who gets to touch Bruce Wayne's bland tuxedo the most, pumpkin," he answered. For that, he was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.

After hunting a perfect dress for her, they stopped in front of a store that did not fit for their wallets.  
"I've been dreaming about that dress for ages now. Might actually afford it if my insurance guy did better job," Harley pouted, gawking at the red dress behind a display window.  
"So? Just go get it. I'll keep company for the shop keeper," he coaxed. Harley gave him and the dress puzzled looks. They then walked into the shop, which was packed full. Who affords to casually just shop here, Grace of Monaco?

There were only two shop assistants. One was busy with the cash register and the other was keeping an eye on the customers. That was his target. It might take a while for Harley to get out of there, poor girl had probably never stolen anything in her life. Well, nothing but copies of his files from Arkham that is.

He got the attention of the shop assistant and began a story of what should he buy for his girlfriend. The woman gave him suspicious looks, but played according to plan. She suggested this and that, and he threw statements like 'I don't think she'd like that color' and 'Do you have this in size that clearly does not exist in this store'.

He was getting annoyed when Harley still wouldn't give him a sign that she was done. Then he noticed a black mask on display. It was made for masquerades and decorated with feathers and tiny diamonds, fake obviously, but still. He needed to buy that.

"This will be perfect," he stated, and was guided to the cash register. When he was done buying that piece of accessory, he decided to walk outside. He had been waiting for her half an hour already and if ripping one price tag from a dress was too difficult, he might as well let her get arrested.

"There you are puddin'!" he heard Harley say next to him. He stopped walking and turned to look at Harley who was eating a pretzel right outside the store.  
"Harley. How long have you been standing there?" he asked calmly, trying not to show any signs of anger.  
"About twenty minutes. I got the dress," she answered with her mouth full. Jay squeezed his fists and began walking Harley following after him.

"Darling, next time someone tells you to give a sign when you're ready, don't forget to do that," he commanded calmly, raising his voice with every word.  
"I'll remember that tonight," she snickered and took his hand.

 

The next week they were called for a questioning at the police station. They had practiced their story over and over again every night after the fire. Jay had a feeling they were rock solid.

"Jimbo, so good to see you!" Jay greeted the commissioner who was there to question him.  
"Mr Doe," he greeted back with a sour face. He motioned Jay to sit on the opposite side of the table, which he did after giving the good old commissioner an enthusiastic hand shake.  
"Oh, Jimbo, you of all people should know that's not my name," Jay smirked, his shoulders hunched when he placed his hands on the table.

"That was the name I was given, so," the commissioner answered and cleared his throat. It had been years since Jay had been in this same room. That time he was placed in handcuffs and sent to the loony bin. The clown wished he could strangle Gordon with his own glasses, and he had no doubt the older man didn't know that.

"Now then, what's your relationship with Miss Quinzel?" was the first question.  
"Miss Quinzel? So formal. Harley is the love of my life, my little sugarplum, Bert to my Ernie or more formally: my girlfriend," Jay answered with theatrical hand gestures. The commissioner studied his painted face and Jay knew that. He gave him an innocent smile.

"Didn't think you were capable of love," Gordon noted and wrote something down.  
"There are lots of things you don't know about me. I always save that for the third date," the comedian teased and drummed his fingers rhythmically on the table.  
"I see. What do you know about Miss Quinzel's living conditions before the incident?" Gordon continued his questions with a straight face.

The questioning went on for a while until it was Harley's turn. Jay had instructed her to call him and put her phone inside her purse. He called it 'emotional support'.  
He listened to the conversation through headphones. He could hear Harley's mouth going dry when Gordon began to taunt her about Jay and Jay's past. He squeezed the phone in his hand out of anger. The commissioner better not get inside her head.

To Jay's surprise, Harley did not break down. Quite the opposite actually.  
"Listen here, ya punk, I don't care what you or any of you clowns think about my puddin', but if ya think I'm gonna let you bad mouth him to me, you're dead wrong! I came here for questioning about the fire, not about my dating life, so if ya don't ask about the fire you can stick that pencil up your ass!" he heard Harley boom through the headphones. He listened to her ranting calmly, but his facial expression was almost as proud as he felt right now.

After her little fit of anger, the questioning continued smoothly. He was waiting her outside the questioning room, and when the blonde and the commissioner walked out, they were good to go. He took her hand, but gave Gordon a big knowing smile before they walked out of there.

"Did I do well, puddin'?" she asked, squeezing his hand a little when her heals almost made her slip on the wet street outside the police station.  
"You did, you did very well. In fact, daddy has a gift for you back home," he complimented. She gasped in excitement.

 

The night of the charity gala for people too fancy to eat from paper plates had arrived. Harley had been staring at herself from the dirty mirror for fifteen minutes now. Jay observed her while putting on his makeup.

"Is this dress too short?" Harley wondered out loud and placed her hands on her thighs.  
"If you're afraid someone will sing 'I see London I see France', you have nothing to fear," Jay assured and rolled his eyes. To be true, the dress probably was too short to be a formal attire, but that didn't matter. They were just going to show their faces there, check if the wine was really greener on the other side of Gotham and then go home.

When they finally arrived, it was something Jay could have never imagined. There was even a god damn chandelier. He played with the thought of throwing something at it or finding a way to climb on it to take a few swings. Maybe some other time.

"Harleen, so good to see you again," Jay heard a familiar voice greet his significant other.  
"Joan, hi! How was your vacation?" Harley asked as they turned around face to face with Joan Leland. The clown noticed how Harley's movement was already quite groggy from all the wine she had sipped non stop when they had arrived. He himself was sober. He wouldn't forgive himself if he forgot anything that would happen tonight.

"So, who's you date?" Joan finally asked after a small talk. When she finally paid attention to Jay, her expression was priceless.  
"Long time no see, Joan," he taunted with a smirk. Harley giggled for some reason and leaned against him.  
"Did you do something to her?" Joan asked with narrow eyes, and Jay gasped in shock.  
"Me? Oh heavens no, she's simply enjoying the fine selection of wines you have here," Jay explained, not taking a note how Harley began to walk away from them.

The bickering between the former patient slash inmate and the psychologist continued for a while, until something caught the attention of everyone in the room.  
"Whoo! I'm the queen of Gotham! Bite me, Elizabeth Taylor!" Harley's voice echoed in the hall. Jay looked up and saw Harley sitting on the chandelier.

The orchestra stopped playing music and everyone's attention was on the ceiling now. Or the girl near the ceiling.  
"Miss Quinzel, get down from there this instant!" Jay heard one of her superiors command, but Harley began to move her legs to swing.  
"Beat it, Mr Foster! I'm having fun!" Harley chimed, adding another playful wohoo here and there.

"Listen here, you sicko, if you really care about her you should know she might actually die if she falls," Joan sneered to Jay. That might be true. Harley was drunk and probably didn't even realize how high the chandelier was.  
"Let her play," he cackled an answer with a grin and observed how his lighthearted girlfriend was kicking the air to swing faster.

The air was filled with horrified and outraged tutting and shrieking. People were trying to convince the blonde to get down, but she apparently had way too much fun. She even had a whole bottle of champagne up there. How did she get that, the comedian wondered with an amused expression on his painted face.

He then noticed how someone else was climbing over there. The host of the evening. Bruce Wayne. No way Jay would let that playboy touch Harley. He marched under the chandelier and reached his arms as high as he possibly could.  
"Harley, come to daddy!" he lured. The blonde seemed to consider her options and people were even telling her not to do that.

Then she let go of the chandelier and began to fall. People were screaming, even though the fall was not even that high if someone was under there to get her.  
The blonde in red landed in Jay's arms and he lost his balance. He himself landed on his butt on that fancy blue carpet, Harley still on his lap. She was still holding the bottle tightly.  
"I'm okay," she murmured against his chest. She better be, his back side hurt more than after that one night of playing a dirty board game.

He finally stood up, taking Harley with him. He slicked his hair from his forehead and smiled to the horrified people around them.  
"Give it up for Harley Quinn everyone!" he encouraged and clapped. He only got a few nervous claps somewhere from the back of the room.  
"Tough crowd," he noted and cleared his throat. Then that man Harley had called Mr Foster earlier walked up to them.  
"Tell Miss Quinzel, when she has cleared her head, that she is expected to collect her stuff on Monday," he scoffed. Jay tilted his head a little but didn't give him a verbal answer.

He guided Harley out of the building and she puked on the ground. He patted her back gently.  
"There there, pumpkin pie, now we don't have to worry about paying for that ridiculous carpet," he chuckled between her fits of vomiting.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself," came a voice from behind them. He glanced behind him and saw Joan Leland's dead serious face.  
"Of course I am, she's not dead," he stated with a hum. The woman behind them didn't seem too convinced.  
"You ruined her. You took a fine, young, career oriented woman and you ruined her," Joan declared. Jay began to lead Harley back to the car they had parked near the entrance.  
"Oh no, doc, I set her free," the clown objected as he helped Harley to sit on the passenger seat.

 

Jay was awake way before Harley was the next morning. He decided to not wake her up, as she would probably just complain about her hangover or something. Besides, he really didn't feel like telling her she had lost her job just yet.

Hours later he finally heard a groan from under the covers of their bed.  
"Morning, sunshine," he greeted and stopped sculpturing something more interesting out of their kitchen table.  
"Mornin'," came an answer as the blonde head rose up from under the blanket.  
"Sheesh, you look like David Bowie from Labyrinth," he joked and dodged the pillow she threw at him.

"What happened last night?" she asked and rubbed her eyes. Jay sat on the edge of the bed.  
"Well, you enjoyed alcoholic beverages, decided to take a few swings on the chandelier, told Elizabeth Taylor to bite you despite the fact she has been dead for years now, then you jumped down and now you get to spend all of your time with me because you were fired," he explained, not breathing between words at all. Harley looked at him for a while, as if waiting for Jay to laugh and tell her he was just joking.

"I did what?! Why didn't you stop me?" the blonde roared and jumped off the bed. Jay squeezed his hands into fists.  
"You are a grown woman, you should know how to behave yourself," he explained through his gritted teeth.  
"I was drunk, you buffoon! How was I supposed to know how to behave?" she shrieked and threw her arms in the air.  
"Who told you to drink so much you'd start to perform your own artistic view of Sia song?!" Jay snarled and poked Harley's chest with his index finger after every word. She grabbed his wrist tightly and they stared into each others eyes for a while. The apartment as quiet as graveyard now.

She kissed him first and he kissed back, not having any second thoughts about it. Jay fell back on the bed and pulled Harley with him. She giggled against his mouth a little while Jay began to remove that strapless red dress off her. It doesn't matter if he teared it up a little bit, they could always steal another one.

After a rather passionate session of love making or three, they laid back on the bed next to each other.  
"That really didn't make our problem disappear, did it?" Harley murmured and ran his fingers on Jay's chest gently.  
"I'm a comedian, not a magician," Jay sighed and stared at the ceiling. If the middle aged man in the apartment above his causes that stain on the ceiling to grow any bigger, he won't hesitate to hide in his apartment and throw him out of the window.

"Yeah, I've seen your paychecks, puddin'. Can't really take care of both of us," Harley confessed.  
"Don't touch my things," Jay cautioned and pulled her hair in a playful manner.  
"You seemed to enjoy that two minutes ago," she reminded and bit his ear a little.

But Harley was right when she had said having sex didn't make their problems go away. She had been fired and he couldn't support both of them with his paychecks. She didn't really have any other options in Gotham, causing a fuss while every even slightly important person had eyes on her tends to do that to people. That didn't stop Jay from sticking a picture of Harley swinging on a chandelier with a headline 'Woman discovers Gotham's priciest playground' attached to it on their fridge. Newspapers can be hilariously cruel sometimes.

 

Between wondering what they should do with their money situation and occasional job hunting, they had to go get something from one of Harley's less hateful former neighbors. Espresso machine maybe? Doesn't matter, Jay really hadn't been interested in listening when Harley had told him.

"We can probably sell this. It's not like we can afford to keep it anyway," the blonde stated as she placed the machine on the backseat of her car. At the same time Jay noticed how a familiar looking man marched towards them.  
"You two are so darn screwed!" the man hissed, spit flying out of his mouth.  
"Sheesh, did Peggy sell your toothbrush, Al?" Jay joked. The man didn't seem to get the joke. Married with Children was probably too dirty in these parts anyway.

"I know you two sinners started the fire. And if and when I get the evidence against you, you'll both end up in jail," the man taunted. Harley was almost about to say something stupid, but Jay covered her mouth with his hand.  
"We have no idea what you're talking about," Jay assured with a sly smile.  
"You'll be caught soon enough," the man scoffed before walking back where he came from.

Jay finally released Harley from his grip and she took a deep breath.  
"We're screwed," she whined with panicked expression. Jay still stared at the man's back and kept his cool.  
"No we're not. We'll have to kill him first," he concluded before getting inside the car.

It turned out the man who had threatened them earlier was that woman's husband. Jay had already forgotten she had a family. Silly him. Too bad their kids will have to find a new guardian for themselves.

The ride back home was quiet and tense. Harley seemed puzzled about his last words about planning murder.  
"Are you sure this is the right way of getting rid of him?" she asked when they finally got back home. Jay groaned in frustration.  
"Do you want to end up in jail? Because that's how you end up in jail. Have you ever been on the other side of the bars when it's not about interviewing patients? I have, and I can assure you playtime is over when that happens," he ranted as he placed that stupid espresso machine on the kitchen counter.

Sure, he could find something to blackmail him with. But that would take too much time Jay wasn't sure they'd have. They could send someone to beat him up, but they didn't really have any money to do that either.

"You might want to drink a couple of espressos, because this is going to be a long night," Jay suggested and began to write things down on a piece of paper. Harley sighed and did as was recommended.

 

Framing someone for arson is one thing, but murder? That wasn't on a small list of things Jay has done in his past. It was on the long list. And the list of things no one knew about him. The thing is that he was caught for several thefts and robberies and other shady things he had done which eventually put him inside Arkham Asylum. He was never caught for murder. He was too good at hiding the evidence.

For their luck, the man's children were placed somewhere else after their mother was arrested. So they only had to worry about getting him. First they drugged him. Then they made him write a letter to his children and authorities, comparing his handwriting to his normal written letters. If he tried something funny he got the taser.

Then came his eventual passing away rite. That was quick, as there were no reason to enjoy his death. The night was way too short and places to hide his screams too low on options.

"How did you know how to do that?" Harley asked as the mans body dissolved inside a bathtub.  
"I have a PhD in chemistry," Jay confessed calmly and tried not to inhale the fumes too much. Harley turned her gaze from the bathtub in confusion.  
"Now you tell me!" she yelled for reasons the comedian could not understand. Now that the body was perfectly gone, that left them with cleaning up the old storage room in the harbor they had done the deed in.

"I'm so tired," Harley groaned after they were done. Jay chuckled at her hunched walking style.  
"I'm sure our Al Bundy felt the same way after losing some of his intestines. But you know what they say: no guts no glory," he cackled and placed his hand on Harley's shoulder.  
Now that this was over with, they still had to worry about their job situation.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love if you guys gave me some constructive critique! I also hope you enjoyed the first chapter.


End file.
